There are 132 tiles covering the ceiling in my bedroom. It’s an old house, and when the addition was built several decades ago, the homeowners thought it prudent to tile some of the ceilings. Six of those 132 tiles still bear water stains from the spring of 2015 when we discovered our roof leaked. And by leaked, I mean, the water poured in through the ceiling fan faster than I could exchange full buckets for empty ones. Even when it’s dark, I can see the outlines of rows and columns based on the location of the water-stained tiles.
Are you as well acquainted with your bedroom ceiling as I am? If you know the contours of the fan or light fixtures over your bed as well as I know mine, then you likely understand the burden of insomnia and the worries that travel with it. I’ve struggled to rest well my whole life. I have early memories of being around seven years old and routinely waking my mom in the night, fretful about being unable to fall asleep. I go through phases of sleeping and not sleeping, but as an adult, my inability to find rest has become woven with anxiety.
Though I have a legitimate problem with physical sleep, my midnight fretting robs me of rest. Just last night, I was up and down several times with a sick child, and in between each cry on the baby monitor, I stared at the ceiling and spun a dozen different scenarios until they landed with illogical conclusions. I worried about my book deadline, my bank account, our leaky water heater, my son’s medical appointments, my husband’s job, and of course, the fear that my inability to stop the unspooling thread of worries might mean I will never, ever sleep again. My heart pounded faster with each anxious rumination.
In my Bible, Psalm 4 is titled “A Nightly Prayer,” and it is one I go back to over and over again in my desire to trust the Lord with my life. Though a full night of physical sleep might not be the end result of trust, rest should be.
David opens the psalm with a plea for God to hear him: “Answer me when I call, God who vindicates me.” It’s kind of bossy when you think about the imperative nature of that sentence, and yet David isn’t commanding God so much as he’s asking God to do what God has historically done, which is to hear his prayer. He’s asking God to persist in being who He has always been.
From there, David reminds God of His past faithfulness in times of affliction—not because God needs to be reminded, but because David does. “You freed me from affliction; be gracious to me and hear my prayer” (4:1). David could confidently call upon God to be gracious to him and hear his prayer when he remembered that God had always been faithful. Remembering God’s past faithfulness helps us to hold on to His present and future faithfulness.
Remembering God’s past faithfulness helps us to hold on to His present and future faithfulness. Share on XDavid’s psalm transitions in verse 2 to supplication. He lays out his troubles, which have to do with slander from men in high places. He moves from request to remembering to reminder. “How long?” he asks of his troubles. Then, “the Lord will hear when I call to Him.” From there, David gives a call to holiness and peace, addressing his tormentors. “Be angry and do not sin; on your bed reflect in your heart and be still. Offer sacrifices in righteousness, and trust in the Lord” (4:4-5).
It’s a pattern we can emulate with our fretful midnight prayers: call to the Lord, lay out your troubles, remember His faithfulness, and resolve to guard your heart from both distrust and its outworkings of anger and anxiety.
Essentially, David implies with his midnight prayer that we can trust the Lord with our life. Regardless of where the world looks for peace, we look to the Lord for our rest. Psalm 4 doesn’t end there, though. David speaks of the ways God has given him joy and provision. More abundant than the harvests of the wealthy is the joy that God has put in his heart. It’s a different kind of joy that tangible blessings cannot capture. It’s security of his soul when life isn’t secure. It’s rest when life says fret. Even in times of turmoil, the Lord provides what we need to trust Him.
We can rest our troubled hearts on the comfort of God’s sovereignty because He alone is able to give us rest when our circumstances spin with uncertainty. David closes his psalm with words I speak back to the Lord on a nightly basis. “I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for You alone, Lord, make me live in safety” (Ps. 4:8).
Though difficult circumstances roil and churn with unpredictability, David’s confidence for peace and rest was securely anchored to the God who gives both when we need them. Because God doesn’t shift or change like our circumstances, we can lie down and sleep in peace for our souls are safe when entrusted to His sovereign faithfulness. Our circumstances may or may not change, but He never will. His promise to complete the work He began in us will not come up short.
Spurgeon summed up this last verse with a resolve I want to remember when I’m counting ceiling tiles and troubles:
I shall not sit up to watch through fear, but I will lie down; and then I will not lie awake listening to every rustling sound, but I will lie down in peace and sleep, for I have nought to fear. He that hath the wings of God above him needs no other curtain. Better than bolts or bars is the protection of the Lord…A quiet conscience is a good bedfellow. How many of our sleepless hours might be traced to our untrusting and disordered minds. They slumber sweetly whom faith rocks to sleep. No pillow so soft as a promise; no coverlet so warm as an assured interest in Christ.1
Maybe you’re like me with worry and midnight tile-counting. If you find difficulty resting when the lights go out and your mind casts a spotlight on your troubles, quiet your thoughts by remembering the truth of Psalm 4:8. The Lord alone makes your heart safe.
Trust me, your midnight worrying won’t accomplish anything. Instead, capture those anxious thoughts. Train your restless mind to work worries into supplication and leave them on the shoulders of our God who never sleeps. You can rest on the surety of His persistent faithfulness. His sovereignty is your pillow.
For further reflection:
Psalm 9:9-10
Psalm 50:15
Psalm 91:14-16
Isaiah 26:3
Isaiah 30:15,18
Romans 8:26-39
Philippians 1:6
1Source: Spurgeon on the Psalms
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.